


it's our paradise (and it's our war zone)

by chocolatecrack



Category: ONE OK ROCK
Genre: AND THIS IS SO GODDAMN CLICHE WOW FORGIVE ME PLS, Angst and Feels, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst and Porn, BUT I GAVE THEM A HAPPY ENDING BCOS I CANNOT FOR THE LIFE OF ME TAKE A SAD ENDING, EVERYTHING IS JUST SO SAD OK THESE TWO MAKE ME FEEL ALL THE FEELS, Friends With Benefits, Kanki Tomoya - Freeform, Kohama Ryota - Freeform, M/M, No Strings Attached, PROTECC MY BBYS, Self-Loathing, Sort Of, also poor bby toru im so sorry, and, brief appearances by - Freeform, someone needs to tell taka that he deserves the entire world and then some
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-06
Updated: 2018-06-06
Packaged: 2019-05-18 23:20:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14862227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chocolatecrack/pseuds/chocolatecrack
Summary: Toru feels like this is such a pain and such a pleasure. Something so bad, it feels so good.Abyss, he thinks. He’s falling into an abyss ofI love you, but you just want to fuck me. And he doesn’t know how to get out. Doesn’t know if he even wants to get out.





	it's our paradise (and it's our war zone)

**Author's Note:**

> AND I HAVE FINALLY DONE IT. I HAVE POSTED A TORUKA FIC. AFTER STARTING SO MUCH TORUKA FICS AND NEVER FINISHING (lol) I'VE FINALLY POSTED ONE. YAY. /cries
> 
> Anyway I'm complete and utter trash for these two and they make my heart feel full and I love them so much shush. BBYS ARE MEANT TO BE OK. This fic came to me when I listened to Taka's Pillowtalk cover again (hence the title) and I just kept replaying that goddamn video bcos it's so fucking beautiful and NOW WE HAVE THIS TORUKA FIC. yea. PREPARE FOR SMUT AND ANGST AND ALL THE GODDAMN CLICHÉS welp.
> 
> Also yes I am purposely posting this today. To heal my heart. From...lol. ANYWAYS.
> 
> Un-beta'd so do forgive me if I missed out a few grammar and spelling mistakes huhuhu
> 
> Hope you enjoy reading! chocolatecrack @ LJ || scenesinmoonstruck @ Tumblr || tobikko_2007 @ Twitter if you guys want to talk!
> 
> Also: to those who want to comment but don't want to go off anon, I made an ask.fm account for fics! :D --> http://ask.fm/chocolatecrack  
> And idk omg buy me a coffee maybe? I WOULD APPRECIATE IT SO MUCH AND I WOULD LOVE U SO MUCH AND THANK U huhu ❤ --> https://ko-fi.com/GrenadineDream

It starts with a song.

The melody isn’t what they usually go for. It has a slow, sensual feel to it, as compared to their heavier, rock-based songs. Deep bass thrums and a guitar solo in the middle that reaches different heights of high. Taka had to use his low voice for the start of the song, and Toru accompanies him in the second chorus and beyond, providing the second voice. Toru sings an octave lower, hitting the bass notes perfectly with his voice, while Taka crescendos into falsetto.

They never finish writing it.

Halfway through writing, when Taka hits a particularly high note, along with Toru’s lower one, they stare at each other, out of breath, out of mind. The nimble fingers Toru has on his guitar are trembling, like electricity flowing through his system. Taka stares at Toru’s lips, inviting him in a like sinister sin. He bites on his own bottom lip, and they move in a frenzy.

Taka doesn’t know how fast Toru gets him out of his clothes, how fast Toru’s hands move towards his body, on his skin like a blazing fire, heating him up in an instant. They don’t kiss, though. Not once. Like an unspoken agreement that this was just a heat-of-the-moment type of thing. Hungry for skin, for a fuck. Not for emotions, for feelings.

Toru makes him come, and come apart, with his hands, his thrusts, his lips on his neck. Taka sees stars behind his eyelids, and he thinks that maybe this is what heaven must feel like, if not better.

Toru comes inside of him, then Taka thinks, screw heaven. This was _definitely_ better.

A moment later, he’s spent, shirt lopsided on his petite frame, hanging on one shoulder, pants a forgotten pile on the other side of the room. Toru tries an embrace, but Taka denies him of one. He pretends not to see Toru tense.

“We shouldn’t make this complicated,” Taka says in a small voice, moving to pick up his clothes from where Toru had haphazardly thrown them away. Toru’s face is unbelievably blank; something Taka and the rest of the world are used to.

“Right,” Toru replies in sorrow, that Taka chooses not to acknowledge.

He doesn’t want to lose him. He gets to keep him this way. At a distance.

A distraction. _Just_ a distraction.

“Maybe we can do it again,” Taka says in a whisper, hopeful. Toru brightens up a little, but it diminishes when Taka continues talking, “No strings attached, of course.”

Toru just nods, tries to keep himself grounded. They try to finish the song after, but Taka’s head is too much filled with unwanted feelings.

So Toru steps outside for a cigarette, pretending not to hear Taka crying himself to sleep.

* * *

 

It’s after a live, that they do it again.

Skin against skin in an otherwise uncomfortable supply closet, adrenaline coursing through their veins. Toru is holding them up with strong arms and legs, Taka’s back colliding with the wooden door with every thrust upwards.

“ _Fuck_ ,” he curses, fisting Toru’s hair tight as the younger man rams himself into him, deeper and deeper.

Toru grazes his teeth against Taka’s collarbone, a move that Taka was always sensitive to. So he wraps his legs tighter around the younger’s torso, weak.

“ _More_ ,” Taka begs, desperate for a release ever since Toru had played his guitar solo in one of their newer songs. The very song they were writing when Toru had taken his entire being. Slow and sensual.

“ _Harder_ ,” he demands, because Toru being careful entails concern. Worry. Emotions. Taka was having none of that, “ _Faster_ , Toru.”

He fists the younger man’s hair again, almost a little too harshly. It earns him a growl from Toru, low and deep, sending shivers down Taka’s spine. Toru rams in hard, fast, unforgiving. His lips attack Taka’s neck, to which the older man realizes he’s leaving a mark. Or quite a few marks. A minute revenge for not allowing him a kiss.

Toru’s heart breaks again, realizing that it will keep happening every time they fuck like this. He thrusts faster in return, torturing himself into thinking that maybe Taka felt the same as he did. That he wasn’t just in this for the fucking.

He holds onto that thought, while Taka begs him to make him come. Toru never denies Taka of anything he wants.

The quickie ends with Taka spilling all over the front of Toru’s shirt, moaning loud and long, and Toru coming inside again like before, because Taka didn’t allow him the privilege of pulling out.

“ _Come inside_ ,” he whispers, and Toru obliges because he always was putty in Taka’s hands.

When Taka dresses and leaves the supply closet, he smiles like nothing had happened at all, taking pictures with the guests and the staff and the fans. Like Toru hadn’t just made him scream his name.

Ryota always notices him when he’s not okay. Sometimes Toru hates him for it.

“Are you okay? Did something happen with Mori-chan?” he asks with concern, Tomoya overhearing the conversation.

Toru just takes out a cigarette stick, “I’m fine,” he makes a beeline for the exit, waving his hand apathetically, a signal for Ryota and Tomoyo to not follow.

Taka’s eyes follow his figure, and Toru knows he’s watching. He lets him do that anyway.

Someone comments later on that night, that Taka smelled eerily similar to Toru. Toru downs his beer in three gulps when he hears those words. When Taka replies with a smile, feigning innocence, Toru finishes his whole drink.

“No, that would be impossible,”

* * *

 

Taka on his knees was always a sight to see. Because Taka rarely gave Toru what he wanted. What he needed. What he _craved_.

He never gives anything. He just takes, and takes, and _takes_ , and sometimes Toru feels like he has nothing else left to give. Because Taka had taken it all, and he himself willingly gave it away. Taka doesn’t force anyone to give him anything, though. They all just do. And Toru was no goddamn exception.

So Taka on his knees, enveloping Toru’s cock in the confines of his heated mouth, was already a goddamn miracle enough as it is. After the show, before they all had a chance to go back to their hotel rooms, Taka whispers in his ear: blowing hot and heavy breath that has him weak in an instant.

“I’m hungry,” he says in a soft voice that was anything but innocent, “ _Feed me_ , Toru.”

Toru was wrapped around Taka’s finger. And he doesn’t know what to do about it.

So now they were in their hotel room, clothes forgotten on the floor, Taka staring up at him from below. The older man sucks and licks and makes him want to forget his own name because Toru feels like this is such a pain and such a pleasure. Something so bad, it feels so good.

Abyss, he thinks. He’s falling into an abyss of _I love you, but you just want to fuck me_. And he doesn’t know how to get out. Doesn’t know if he even wants to get out.

Fuck his feelings. Taka can fuck him and fuck his feelings all day, every day. Toru was willing. Anything for more of this. _Anything_.

“ _Takahiro_ ,” he whispers, lacing his fingers through Taka’s short black hair carefully, a deep look in his eyes. And he immediately thinks it’s a bad idea.

Because Taka pulls himself away, not wanting anything that has _feelings_ written all over it. Attachments. Strings. Stupid ass strings.

“I—”

Taka silences him with a hand on his mouth and his tongue on his neck.

“Fuck me like you mean it, Toru,” he says harshly, dragging Toru towards the bed, pushing him then crawling above. “Or let me do it myself.”

Taka rides him hard, fast, rough, taking all of him in and leaving no space between them. Toru tries to give him what he wants, grasping his hips tight, tighter, so much that it might leave bruises to appear the next day. Taka scratches his nails on Toru’s chest, leaving little red marks that sting. But not as much as the sting in his heart.

“Oh, _g-god,_ ” Taka moans loud, and Toru knows he’s hit a particular spot within. Where Taka was vulnerable the most. He grips Taka tighter, thrusting upwards vigorously, matching with each time Taka sinks down.

It doesn’t take them too long to come.

It happens right after one another, Taka coming apart first, then pulling Toru with him. Toru keeps thrusting, milking himself dry until he feels that he has nothing left to give. Taka prolongs his high by squeezing Toru’s waist between his legs. Never mind that it hurts a little bit.

He collapses on top of Toru then, when he’s all spent and done and satisfied, his cheek sticking to Toru’s chest with sweat from both of their bodies.

“ _Damn_ ,” is the only thing he has to say, before Toru carefully pulls out of him, Taka shuddering while he does so.

Toru’s head is spinning, drowning in a pool of endorphins. He recklessly says words out loud. Words he doesn’t regret saying, knowing it was the absolute truth.

“You own me,”

He says it between pants, not even sure Taka was still listening.

“You _own_ me, Takahiro,”

Toru hopes to everything that the smile he feels on his chest wasn’t just from his imagination.

“I own you,” Taka reiterates matter-of-factly, leaving a small kiss in the middle of Toru’s chest.

When Toru was smoking his cigarette, the cold breeze from the open window not even a bother, he realized it. As Taka was sleeping soundly beside him, still naked. Still glowing. _Still beautiful._

He never did say it back.

* * *

 

In a blur of moments, too soon, too fast, Toru is catering to him again. To his needs, his wants, his demands.

They’re in Taka’s apartment this time, in Tokyo, and the feeling of being back makes Taka look like he’s glowing even more. No matter how much he tells everyone that he loves LA, Tokyo still makes him look different. Toru notices it: the light in his eyes, the high pitch of his voice, the brighter smiles and louder laughs. Taka’s home. He’s home.

And he takes Toru home with him.

He wastes no time in pulling Toru into his apartment, barely making it past the front door before attacking Toru with a vigorous kiss.

It was all a blur from there.

“ _More_ ,” Taka’s voice comes out strained, knuckles turning almost as white as the sheets he clutches. “I need _more_ , Toru. _Fuck_.”

Toru doesn’t deny that Taka’s demanding tone doesn’t turn him on. Because, as Taka keeps telling him what to do— _fuck me harder, do it faster, give me more_ —his heart reacts in a way where he thinks adrenaline is the only thing keeping him going. Taka makes the sweetest of sounds, with a voice that feels like it was laced with saccharine syrup, and it makes Toru feel alive. His last string. His lifeline. His oxygen. _His Takahiro_.

Except.

“I’m yours,” he whispers as he thrusts into Taka once again, balancing himself on strong arms, careful not to crush the petite man underneath him. But he feels Taka tense with the words and he instantly wants to swallow them back in.

The sheets smell like Taka. Fuck, the _whole apartment_ smells like him. A scent Toru is all too familiar with. He suddenly feels like he’s drowning in it. Because it smells like the Taka he knows and loves and _fuck_ , because his heart tells him that. He knows Taka, inside and out. He _loves_ Taka; all aspects of him. Broken and whole, the good side and the bad side.

But he buries the realization away. Knows there was no place for it right now. Not when he was driving Taka closer to the edge, to the point of no return, with no intention of going back. Not when he was willing to go there with him.

So he thrusts some more, faster, harder, rougher, the way Taka demands him to. Taka responds with longer and louder moans, a fist in his hair, tight legs around his waist, fingernails marking moon crescents onto his back.

“ _Fuck_ , Toru,” Taka is breathless, panting, a telling that he was inching closer. Toru doesn’t know why he keeps going at his pace: vicious and raw and unrelenting. He forgets all forms of sanity.

He keeps going even when Taka comes, when Taka clutches onto him so tight he feels like his blood stops in his veins. Thrusting more, chasing the feeling, the want and need to release, clawing for it as Taka tightens around his cock.

Toru comes when he feels Taka tightening and tightening; the older man’s high prolonged by his own. It extends the high. Elevates it. Makes it unreachable. Toru thinks he’s floating.

Taka never allows him to come outside, somehow always wanting, always _craving_ , him inside. Maybe he feels like they were together more, that way. Or that’s what Toru thinks, at least.

That’s what Toru _hopes_.

When he pulls out, a tired and spent Taka underneath him, still trying to catch his breath, Toru reaches for the cigarette box inside his jean pocket. Taka reacts immediately, despite his current state.

“I don’t like the smell of cigarettes in my apartment,” he says between breaths.

Because it reminds Taka of a dark memory: background idol, caught in a scandal, young and wasted, his parents’ reactions, dropping out of school, running away from home.

_Failure, disappointment, worthlessness._

He doesn’t mind it when the rest of the band smokes, during their lives, or on tour. Hell, sometimes he smokes a few himself. But there’s something about it being in his apartment. A haunting pain, never leaving him alone.

A haunting pain he never wants to revisit.

“I don’t like the smell of cigarettes in my apartment,” he repeats, but Toru’s already pulling a stick out and putting it between his teeth. He looks at Taka with dark eyes. Not angry, but sad. A deep kind of sad. The kind where Taka thinks it’s rooted on something much worse than what he’s thinking.

He hopes he wasn’t the reason for it, but his guilt tells him otherwise.

“I’m going outside,” Toru says in a deep voice, not exactly asking permission.

Taka wants to protest again, but he thinks compromise was enough for today. He wasn’t going to deal with this. And he still feels guilty, anyway. So he lets Toru be.

The younger man puts his boxers on, brushes his damp blond hair out of his eyes, picks up his lighter from his pocket, and walks towards Taka’s apartment balcony. He stops himself from going any further when a sudden pain in his chest was too great to ignore. With a deep breath, he says the words out loud.

“I meant it, by the way,”

Toru doesn’t dare turn around. Doesn’t want to see what Taka looks like when he says what he wants to say.

“Meant what?” Taka asks in a small voice that sounds too hollow.

Toru almost crushes the cigarette stick between his teeth.

“I’m yours, Takahiro,” he says slowly, hearing Taka’s breath hitch behind him, “I always have been.”

He starts to walk away, not wanting to hear what Taka has to say after that. But he couldn’t avoid it: the heartache and heartbreak. He should’ve expected that much. Why does Moriuchi Takahiro make his heart beat and bleed all at the same time?

He’s almost out of earshot when Taka replies.

“I’m not,”

The words ring in his ears.

Toru keeps walking.

* * *

 

It’s been a long time since Taka has been in his apartment. Taka had visited that night to work on a new song together, more additions to their upcoming album. Toru was supposed to go out with Ryota for dinner, but he cancelled because it was Taka who called and Toru would always pick Taka over anything. Over everything. No matter what.

It hurts him that it wasn’t the same the other way around.

But he buries that pain anyway, lets Taka in his apartment, past his front door, into his home, and straight into his heart.

“Seems nicer than when I was here last,” Taka comments, a tinge of nostalgia laced in his voice.

He remembers that last time he was here: drunk, crying, broken. It was one of those moments. The ones he has from time to time. When he thinks his life is spiraling downwards, yet again. He doesn’t exactly know what triggers them every time it happens. But Toru always knew the right words to say to get him out of that state. He knew before, he knew now, he knows always. Toru makes him feel like he’s worth it.

Taka’s heart breaks, knowing he still would never be enough.

“I’m barely here, anyway,” Toru shrugs, “So no one is around long enough to mess it up.”

Because he was always either on tour in a bus, flying all over the world for shows, in a recording studio, in the rehearsal studio, going out with his friends, or flying all the way to goddamn Los Angeles just to be with Taka when he asks. No matter how much he despises flying.

“Right,” Taka says awkwardly, wrapping an arm around himself. Toru’s air conditioning wasn’t too much, nor was the weather outside. But he just felt cold for some reason. And empty.

Toru grabs a cigarette stick from a newly opened box, “So,” he starts, “Any ideas on how you want the song to sound like?” he puts the stick between his lips, talking over it while he lights it up. He takes a long drag and puffs a thick amount of smoke in the air, not even bothering to open a window. Frankly, he doesn’t give that much of a damn.

“Oh, uh, before that,” Taka struggles for the right words, “I actually wanted to talk about something.”

Toru furrows his eyebrows together, surprised that Taka actually _wants_ to talk. “Talk about what?”

“Uhm…” Taka moves closer, the white tattered shirt and black ripped skinny jeans he has on are a definite distraction.

Toru takes another long drag from his cigarette, letting the nicotine contaminate his lungs. He tries to keep himself calm, knowing that if he acts on his feelings now, they wouldn’t be able to get anywhere. Not that they were getting anywhere, anyway, the past few months. Unless ‘anywhere’ meant Taka stealing his heart, making it beat a mile a minute, then breaking it into a million tiny pieces as he steps on it with full force.

Sometimes Toru is melodramatic. But he just blames it on the heartbreak.

Toru crushes the end of his cigarette on an ashtray, tries to focus on the way Taka was looking at him.

“Look, Toru,” the older man starts, and Toru moves closer, towering over him with his unbelievable height. “I…” he wants to say so many things. _I know you’re confused_. _I never meant for it to happen this way._ _I’m sorry for breaking your heart_. _I hope you forgive me_. _You deserve better_.

 _I love you_.

The words never do come out.

Instead, it ends up where it usually does: all forms of communication forgotten, Taka staring at Toru too long, and the tension gets the better of them both. Then Toru fucks him rough and raw, the younger man’s bed sheets smelling exactly like him, like the intoxicating scent that Taka always gets drunk on. He makes Taka scream his name, makes him come all over his fingers while he fills Taka up with his own come, and the older man forgets that this was the very thing that he wanted to avoid today.

Toru pants, pulls out of Taka, and collapses beside him, still coming down from his high. Taka tries to still his breathing, gulping a great amount of air to refill his lungs. They both dress after, and Toru expects Taka to walk out of the apartment, out of his reach, yet again. But he just lies down on the bed again, so Toru does the same.

Taka opens his mouth to speak, possibly to apologize, possibly to tell Toru the truth, or some semblance of it at least. But he doesn’t get the chance, Toru beating him to it.

“I can’t do this anymore,”

The words feel like daggers and bullets aiming straight for Taka’s heart.

“I’m _tired_ , Takahiro,” Toru says in an exhausted whisper, and maybe Taka was imagining it, but he thinks Toru was trying to prevent himself from crying. “I’ve had enough.”

Taka doesn’t exactly know what to say. So he just asks, instead. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” Toru sits up, turning around so he doesn’t have to look at Taka in the eyes when he speaks, “This is too much for me.”

Toru is not a man of many words; that much Taka knows. So it surprises him when the younger man keeps talking.

“I can’t pretend like you don’t break my heart every time we do this,” he says with a voice full of hurt, “It’s too much, and I’ve had enough, and I don’t want to do this anymore.”

Taka knows the feeling clawing at his heart, the inner demons in his head reaching out to him. _He’s tired of you. Like they all are. You’re not worth staying for._

“I’m sorry,” was all he could come up with. He wanted to say something more. _I’m sorry for breaking your heart. I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you the truth. I’m sorry I can’t love you the way you deserve. I’m sorry I’m too complicated. I’m sorry you fell for a storm like me_. But none of it come out, so he just repeats the apology. “I’m sorry, Toru.”

Toru was tired of apologies from Taka.

“You just…” Taka feels the tears threatening to fall, and he looks and feels so pathetic already, but he doesn’t give a single shit, “You don’t understand.”

The sudden anger Toru feels comes out of nowhere. Maybe it was from the frustration or hurt, but he just feels so fucking angry and he can’t take it anymore.

He hurriedly stands up, turning around to face Taka, the expression on his face tired and aching, “ _Don’t_ ,” he says sternly, “Don’t give me that _bullshit_. It’s y _ou_ who doesn’t understand, Takahiro. You _never_ did.”

Taka doesn’t know why he suddenly feels angry, as well. And tired. So, _so tired_. “Understand _what_ , Toru? That I’m not someone that other people want to stay with? That I’m not worth anything more than a fuck?”

Toru feels his blood boil, not meaning to raise his voice, but he was just _so tired_ and Taka _still_ doesn’t get it, “That’s not it!”

“Then what is it?!? That I’m not good enough for you?! That I don’t deserve someone like you?!”

Toru gives up. _No more. Enough._

“That I’m _in love with you_!!!”

The tears finally fall from Taka’s eyes, streaming down his face, and Toru’s heartstrings break. Even in sadness, Taka looks beautiful.

“No…” Taka tells himself that was a lie. He refuses to believe anything else, “You can’t do that.”

Toru shakes his head.

“You are unbelievable,” he says, and maybe he was crying too. Taka rarely sees Toru cry. Especially not like this.

“No!” Taka yells, anger rising, “No, you can’t _do_ this, Toru. You can’t fall for me. You can’t tell me you have feelings for me and that you’re…” his voice cracks, choking on sobs, “You’re not in love with me. You’re just not. _No_.”

“ _Why_?”

“Because you’re not supposed to! I’m too broken, and you’re too _fucking perfect_ ,” each word breaks Toru’s heart, “And you deserve better than a fuck-up like me. And I’m too much of storm that destroys everything in its path and my life always ends up like a _goddamn wreck_ and I can’t do that _you_. Anyone _but_ you.”

Toru stares into Taka’s eyes, sees the absolute heartache in them. He wants nothing more than to kiss Taka’s tears away, lock his insecurities in a box and bury them forever, so Taka never feels like he’s worth any less than he is. He just wants to love Taka. Pour so much love into him until he drowns. But how do you love someone who doesn’t want to be loved? Who refuses to be loved?

He says nothing, and lets Taka continue talking.

“Steer clear of me, Toru,” Taka avoids his gaze, “I’m bad news.”

“You don’t get to tell me what to do,” Toru moves closer to him, Taka taking a step back.

“ _Excuse me_?”

“You don’t get to tell me what I do and do not deserve. You don’t get to tell me what I’m allowed and not allowed to do,” he steps forward again, “And you definitely _do not_ get to tell me who I’m supposed to and not supposed to love.”

Taka doesn’t want to look at him. The tears are still falling from his eyes and he doesn’t want to look like the mess that he already is.

“I’ll just hurt you,”

Toru shakes his head, “You already did. And you _still_ do.”

“So why do you fucking stay?”

“Because you’re _worth_ the hurt,”

Taka chokes on sobs, shaking, unable to keep his feelings inside anymore, “You’re insane.”

“And you’re not?” Toru tries to touch him, lifts his hand to reach out and caress his cheek. But he momentarily stops himself. Not until Taka understands, “I’d willingly let you break my heart, Takahiro. If it meant I could love you the way you’re worthy of. The way I want to.”

Taka takes a deep breath, looking towards the ground. Toru hopes he finally understands.

He plucks up the courage to finally touch Taka. Lift the older man’s face with a touch of his cheek, wiping away the godforsaken tears that somehow keep falling, and it’s such a beautiful, painful thing to watch. That the one who owns his heart thinks he doesn’t have a right to it.

“I’m in love with you, Takahiro,” he says again, clearer this time, looking straight into Taka’s eyes with sincerity and dedication.

He’s not lying. Taka knows he’s not.

“ _Please_ ,” Toru begs, desperate, “Say something.”

Taka stares into Toru’s eyes, into Toru’s _soul_ , and sees the absolute sincerity in them. It tugs at his heart.

He bites his lip, still so goddamn afraid of what he was capable of doing to the younger man. “I can’t save you from myself, Toru,” he whispers.

Toru just holds him tighter, leaning down. He pulls Taka’s face closer, and the distance between them lessens, making Taka’s heart pound in his chest.

“I don’t want to be saved,” Toru ghosts the words on Taka’s lips.

It’s all too fast and too soon, like they have been the past few months. But Taka’s suddenly pulling the back of Toru’s head, lacing his fingers through bright blond hair, and Toru’s wrapping strong arms around Taka’s petite waste and lifting Taka off his feet. And their lips crash together in a glorious display of overwhelming affection. Toru kisses Taka, full of emotion and wonder and relief because _finally_.

Finally, Taka understands.

That Toru doesn’t give a fuck about getting into his pants or getting him to bed. That this whole thing wasn’t just a fuck and forget. That he loved him, all of him, broken _and_ whole.

That Toru chooses him. He chooses Taka. Every hour of every day. No matter what. Because he wants this. And maybe now, maybe he doesn’t have to hope that Taka wants the same.

Because maybe he actually does.

Taka’s crying in the kiss, breathless.

They part for a while, to gather air back into their lungs, the intensity a little too much. Toru sticks their foreheads together, wiping the tears from Taka’s cheek with a soft touch, and kissing the rest away.

Taka finds his voice.

“I’m in love with you,”

 _Finally_.

Toru couldn’t help but cry as well.

“ _Fuck_ , Toru,” Taka cries more and Toru keeps kissing his tears away, “ _I’m so fucking in love with you_.”

Toru had said enough words for the night. So instead, he just kisses Taka again, molding their lips together like puzzle pieces that weren’t meant to go together but still fit anyway. He slowly walks them towards his bed, gently placing Taka on top of his sheets.

The right way, this time. The way it should have been from the start.

He peppers kisses all over Taka’s face. His lips, his eyelids, his cheeks, his jaw, his forehead. Taka thinks his heart was going to burst, stomach fluttering from all the butterflies.

“Toru…” he whispers again, and Toru is right there, breathing hard and heavy, high on lust and love and Moriuchi Takahiro.

Taka makes Toru look at him. Takes a deep breath before speaking.

“ _Make love to me_ ,”

It’s so soft, Toru almost doesn’t catch the words. But his heart hears it in full, thumping so hard, wanting so much to escape the confines of its cage. Toru feels like his whole chest was going to split open.

“I love you,” Toru repeats, the words still never enough to convey how much he truly feels, “ _I’m so in love with you, Takahiro._ ”

Toru kisses Taka again, to make up for lost time.

He goes painfully, _gloriously_ slow, this time around. And Taka knows that this was what Toru wanted to make him feel since the beginning. Each undress of clothing, Taka feels like there are firecrackers on his skin and Toru sets them all off, leaving him in beautiful warmth. Toru kisses every inch of skin he can access: the spot behind Taka’s ear, his neck, his collarbone, his chest. His lips light as a feather and soft as cloud nine.

Toru holds him close, _closer_ , wraps him up in his arms to protect him from an all too cruel world and Taka is so overwhelmed by the feeling of each emotion hitting all at once.

He moans loud, and long, and Toru doesn’t drown out the sound this time. Because he knows Taka welcomes it, welcomes Toru with an invitation.

Toru kisses him again when he enters, gentle and careful and Taka hasn’t felt like this before. Like Toru was going to break him apart but also piece him back together. And that he was very much willing to let that happen.

He reaches an unbelievable high moments later, screaming Toru’s name at the top of his lungs. The younger man silences him with a kiss on his lips, swallowing Taka’s moans down his throat and gives them back in return. A mess of sounds and sweat and so much love.

Taka pants, still coming down from his high, a faint scent of sea foam and the taste of stardust floating in the air. He was lightheaded and sated and satisfied and _so goddamn in love_ with Yamashita Toru.

“ _I love you_ ,” he says again, the words escaping his lips on their own.

Toru wraps him up in his arms, leaving a light kiss on his forehead before he pulls out, still as gentle, still as careful.

“I’m _yours_ , Takahiro,” he says again, like all those days ago, when things were much complicated. Taka basks in the afterglow, and Toru has never seen anything more beautiful. “I always have been.”

Taka doesn’t respond this time.

He pulls Toru in for a kiss instead, settling himself in how Toru’s embrace feels like the _forever_ he had always longed for. Settling himself in Toru’s life.

It hadn’t felt right with anyone else, because it always felt right with Toru. By his side, in his life, in his heart. _Always_.

Toru kisses back, getting the message.

 _Finally_.

**Author's Note:**

> THESE TWO TUG AT MY HEART HUHUHU. Also forgive that weak-ass ending jfc Niña what are you doing
> 
> Anyways! Thoughts?


End file.
